A New Alliance
by Useless19
Summary: In which Thorin led his people South after Smaug attacked and Théoden likes his neighbours. Set during the battle of Helm's Deep.


**A New Alliance** - _In which Thorin led his people South after Smaug attacked and Théoden likes his neighbours. Set during the battle of Helm's Deep._

_AN: Because Théoden and Thorin have a lot in common. This is set assuming that Théoden and the others arrived a full day before Aragorn showed up. Film'verse and slightly time-skewed._

* * *

Thorin is already in the throne room of Helm's Deep when Théoden arrives. There had been a Dwarf or two amongst the many refugees, so Théoden isn't entirely surprised.

"Hail, King Thorin," Théoden greets, joining the Dwarf at the table Thorin has spread papers and weapons over.

"Hail, Théoden-King," Thorin returns, grasping Théoden's offered arm before turning his attention back to the logistics in front of them, "You are not an unwelcome sight in this dark hour."

Some of the papers are covered in a scrawl of Dwarvish runes. What memory Théoden has of them is somewhat clouded from his recent troubles, but he recognises enough to know a list of names when he sees one.

"How many of your people made it to the Keep?" Théoden asks.

"Barely a hundred," Thorin replies with an exhausted sigh, "There was a cave-in at the mountains. And Wargs on the road."

Thorin's people had only ever been, at most, five hundred strong. Théoden glances over the list again, it's strange to see an entire race's population on two pages.

"A cave-in?" Théoden repeats, "I thought the White Mountains were stable?"

A dark look covers Thorin's face. "As did we," he says heavily, "As they were, until Wizard-fire broke them down with charcoal, salt, and sulphur."

"Saruman."

It's strange how quickly a name, especially one that had once been associated with an ally, can turn sour to say. Théoden takes a drink to clear his mouth.

"You bring few warriors," Thorin says, running his finger over a map of the wall, "Where is Éomer and the Rohirrim?"

"Banished," Théoden replies, "I have not been myself for some time."

"Are they expected to return?"

"Yes, but I doubt it will be soon enough."

"Gandalf will make good on his word," Aragorn's Elf says. Théoden had nearly forgotten he was still there, "He will bring them."

Thorin glowers at the Elf, before turning his attention to Aragorn's Dwarf companion instead. He still look angry, but Théoden can tell when fury is directed inwards.

"Gimli, son of Glóin," Thorin greets, "Your father didn't make it from the mines."

It's a blunter tone than Théoden would have used and there's a frown from the Elf. However, Gimli bows his head with a cry of sorrow, but tries no denials.

"I believe the rest of your family are in the caves," Thorin continues.

Gimli nods and starts for the caves. He catches himself and turns back to Thorin.

"My Lord, I have news from Moria," Gimli says heavily enough that Théoden knows it cannot be good news. From the pinched look on Thorin's face, he knows it too.

"We will speak of that later," Thorin says, dismissing Gimli.

Gimli rushes off and, after a moment, the Elf follows him.

"Who else was lost in the mines?" Théoden asks. There are too many for Thorin to list individually, but Théoden hasn't seen hide nor hair of the rest of Thorin's family so far.

"My sister," Thorin says, "Who did you lose against Saruman's forces?"

"My son. I was too lost in darkness to even see him at the last," Théoden says. They've always been truthful with one another, it's part of why Théoden trusts the Dwarves far more readily than any other ally around.

There is no time for apologies from either king and they turn their attention back to lists and figures.

* * *

"Do you approve?"

Théoden looks up from where he'd been frowning at an inventory of weapons without truly seeing it. Thorin is looking over at a corner of the room where Éowyn and Fíli are talking. The occasional laugh makes its way over.

Théoden registers Thorin's question and looks at the pair with fresh eyes.

"No," he decides.

"Good," Thorin says, "Neither do I."

Still, neither Théoden nor Thorin make any move to break them apart. Let the young enjoy what little time they have left.

There is a sword strapped to Éowyn's hip and Théoden can do nothing but curse that he'd let Éomer teach her at all.

"We have need of someone to guard the caves," Thorin says. He can be observant when he tries, he just doesn't make the effort very often, "Someone used to leading and has a way of defending themselves and others."

It's an offer Théoden cannot refuse. He can also make one of his own.

"The caves are a maze, there is also need for someone who can guide them through the dark."

"Kíli was injured on our travels," Thorin says, indicating his other nephew with a nod, "I would not have him in this fight anyway and if can make himself useful, that's even better."

Kíli is currently sitting in another corner, fletching arrows with Legolas. There's a swath of bandages over the Dwarf's left side and leg.

"Keep an eye on the Elf," Thorin says suddenly, "His father abandoned my people when our need was greatest."

Legolas has been nothing but loyal to Aragorn and Gimli ever since Théoden met them. Even Elves, it seems, are to be judged by their ancestors.

"Where would he abandon us to?" Théoden asks, "I don't believe Elves are fond of tunnels and I doubt Saruman will stay away for long."

That thought, more akin to gallows humour than Théoden had meant it, seems to cheer Thorin somewhat and they return to questions of harvest and supplies.

* * *

Aragorn throws open the doors the following day in a dramatic flourish that Théoden spitefully wonders if he learnt from Gandalf.

His news is far more distressing than anything Gandalf had ever brought however.

"I cannot spare more than fifty," Thorin says to the question of warriors, "We have precious few who are not miners first."

"Every person counts," Aragorn pushes, "We need every able-bodied Man and Dwarf."

"Then be content that I am offering fifty more than you would've had," Thorin snarls.

"We are against an army," Aragorn hisses back, "An army that will stop at nothing until everyone in this Keep is broken."

Thorin slams down a fist on the table. "I will not lead my people to their deaths!" he roars.

Théoden can hear the '_not again_' and wonders if Aragorn can too. To be king of a dragon-infested kingdom and a handful of subjects. Théoden doesn't envy Thorin one bit.

The question of Gondor makes Théoden snarl too. He would not turn away their aid were Gondor to give it, but he will not beg for nothing again.

Théoden, too, is a king of a dying country. He hates Aragorn and his optimism just long enough to hope he tries to reclaim Gondor and chokes on it.

* * *

Éowyn and Kíli are, expectedly, difficult to persuade.

"I can fight!" Éowyn snaps, full of fire.

"I can still shoot from the wall without getting into close combat," Kíli argues.

"One day you will learn that there are other ways of defending your people," Théoden says to his niece.

"You cannot draw fully," Théoden retorts to his nephew, "You will be no good _except_ in close combat."

There is a lot of arguing back and forth. It ends when Kíli tries to demonstrate that he has full control over his bow and nearly shoots his brother when his wounded side makes him release too soon.

The look Éowyn bestows upon Théoden is nothing short of betrayed, but, dutiful daughter of Rohan that she is, she obeys his order to stay in the caves with the other women.

Fíli very nearly chooses to stay with his brother over fighting on the wall. Thorin looks like he desperately wants to keep Fíli in the caves too, and perhaps that is what finally makes up Fíli's mind for him. Kíli will be in minimal danger, Thorin won't be.

* * *

The Elves, while an amazing sight, are subject to Thorin's glower for their welcome. Théoden is glad that there is still some sense under Thorin's wounded pride when it comes to Elves and he doesn't try to send them away.

"At least they're not from Mirkwood," Thorin mutters as Aragorn starts directing the Elves to their places on the battlements.

* * *

The army of Uruk-hai is bigger than Théoden's worst nightmares. It fills the valley with armoured foes, fire, and cries of battle.

The rain is very nearly a welcome, as it makes it difficult to see how far the army stretches.

The first part of the siege is what Théoden expects. He's used the fortress before and for all the enemy's ladders and crossbows, the defenders are victorious. It's enough to make Théoden relax for a moment. They've won before and they'll win again.

"FÍLI!" Thorin is suddenly running for the wall.

Théoden cannot see Fíli any longer, not that he could make out the individual soldiers very well from the distance he's holding. He hopes that whatever got Thorin so worried, Fíli will survive it. For Éowyn's sake.

Because Théoden is already looking that way, he loses what little night-vision he had amongst the torches when the explosion happens.

There's a smell of soot and sulphur in the rain-damp air and Théoden wishes it had occurred to anyone that Saruman could use the same trick twice.

* * *

Later, Théoden will hear of how Fíli leapt from the wall to kill the first Uruk-hai carrying a torch. And the second. And the third.

And then the forth engaged him long enough for a fifth to get past and ignite the fire of Orthanc.

* * *

The causeway gates are mended, but they will not last long. The wall has fallen and even now Uruk-hai are pushing through the last of the defenders.

Thorin makes it into the throne room just as they're closing and barring the doors. He's carrying Fíli on his back and is covered head to toe in mud and the blood of Uruk-hai.

"He lives. Though I doubt for long," Thorin says, passing his nephew to an attendant to take into the caves. The uneven gait Théoden had taken for the heavy burden of another Dwarf remains; Thorin is injured.

Théoden gets a good look at Fíli on the way past. Fíli's right ear is a bloody mess and a jagged piece of thick iron is lodged in his right arm. The smell of soot and sulphur clings heavily to the Dwarf, especially so on the metal in his arm.

"None will live when they destroy the door," Théoden says, his heart heavy. He tries to picture the last time he saw Éowyn smile and cannot recall it. Éomer's face too, is gone from his memory.

At least he will meet Théodred in the hall of their forebears.

"Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them," Aragorn is saying. There's a light in his eyes and a pride to his stance that speaks to Théoden, king to king.

"For death and glory," it's all Théoden has left to offer.

"For _Rohan_," Aragorn says and people would follow a Man like that to the ends of the earth.

Thorin limps over to where Théoden is mounting his horse. Gamling has, with his usual forethought, saddled Snowmane up for two.

"We will likely not come back alive," Théoden says, even as he reaches down a hand to pull Thorin up behind him.

"We've held off death long enough this night," Thorin replies. He gives the straps of his oaken shield one last check over and draws his sword carefully.

They've fought like this before and it's frighteningly effective. Being left-handed as he is, Théoden can focus on steering his mount and fighting enemies to their left, knowing that Thorin, being dextral, will cover his unguarded side.

The doors finally break and Théoden spurs Snowmane onwards into the melee.

* * *

"I still don't approve."

Théoden's shoulder is finally being seen to properly after the enemy has been ousted and Thorin has neat, white bandages over the gash in his leg. Further across the infirmary Éowyn is tending to Fíli.

"Neither do I," Théoden says, "But he makes her smile and that is a rare sight these days."

Fíli will probably never hear through his mangled ear again and it will certainly be a long time before he can fight with his arm in the state it's in. Éowyn is currently wrapping said arm. Wrapping it too tightly if the paleness of Fíli's hand is anything to go by. Shieldmaiden Éowyn may be, but she has little practise with medicine of any sort.

Still, Fíli is bearing the treatment well enough.

"And she makes him laugh, when even his brother cannot," Thorin sighs, "I believe half the initial attraction was my disapproval in the first place."


End file.
